


For a Second There, We'd Won

by flares



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, this is so sappy but I am so sappy so.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flares/pseuds/flares
Summary: Zayn can’t stop looking at Niall’s fingernails, bitten down and red, and he wonders what had him so anxious. But he’s not in any place to ask anymore, so he keeps his mouth shut.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eiqhties](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiqhties/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [Seren](http://eiqhties.tumblr.com/)! (Just pretend it's November 5th.) I wish I could make this longer for you but I'm happy with where I left off so, here it is. Thanks to Pia, Zane, and Stella (who hasn't been into 1D since 2013 lmao) for looking this over for me. Any and all mistakes are of course mine, disclaimer and all that, etc., etc.
> 
> Title from _Miss Atomic Bomb_ by The Killers, because "FOR SEREN - Nov 5 - go fuck yourself Katelyn this isn't getting done in time" was too long.

“We need to jam sometime, mate!”

“Are you heading anywhere soon?” Zayn asks, adjusting his phone where it’s cradled between his neck and shoulder. “Hear you’re invited to the Brits, so I’d see you there, yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m not too sure about the Brits.” Liam’s put his phone on speaker, so he sounds like he’s talking to Zayn from the far end of a tunnel. “Might not be ready to release actual music by then.”

Zayn hums, adds an antenna to the robot he’s doodling. “Could always go on your own. Don’t need to have new stuff to be there, you know.”

There’s an odd buzzing noise from Liam’s end, and then Liam’s quiet _shit_ muttered down the line. Zayn’s eyebrows furrow.

“What’s it?” he asks, pen pausing on the notepad. “Something wrong?”

“Um,” Liam says. There’s a brief scuffle, then his voice comes through clear, speakerphone turned off now. “Promise you won’t get mad at me, okay?”

“Depends,” Zayn says. “What did you do?”

Liam sighs heavily and doesn’t reply right away. Which is fine, Zayn thinks. He can wait him out. Zayn has endless patience, and a pretty thick notepad. The robot needs a control panel.

“Um, I think you have to go, so I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asks. “Why do _I_ have to go? Liam—”

There’s a click as Liam hangs up on him, then the buzz of an incoming text a few moments later. Before Zayn opens it, there’s a loud pounding at the door. Zayn’s stomach gives a little lurch, since, like, this is probably related to whatever Liam was talking about, right? He isn’t expecting anyone today, was just planning on doodling, maybe doing some writing, and binge-watching a new show on Netflix.

Zayn heads to the door regardless, pulse pounding in his ears. He doesn’t bother to look through the peephole before opening the door, because his perhaps over-the-top Halloween decorations block it and even though it’s been a month and a half since, he hasn’t bothered to take it all down. The cold wind that hits Zayn right as he wrenches the door open has him retreating backwards, but the sight of Niall standing bundled in a huge puffy jacket on his threshold would have had him stumbling anyways.

“Niall?”

“Let me in. ‘S fuckin’ freezing,” Niall says, shuffling sideways through the door and hip checking it shut behind him. “Jesus Christ. Took you long enough.”

Zayn doesn’t reply. He can’t, what with his heart in his throat. Seeing Niall again face to face after months of radio silence is like putting salt in the wound he’s been trying to heal. His hair is a bit less blonde, and he’s got a bit of scruff now, but he’s still the same Niall that’s been actively avoiding him since July. Bought a place halfway across the world and took off to get away from him, actually.

Niall kicks off his shoes, hangs up his hat, mixes his stuff in with Zayn’s like nothing’s changed. Except it has, and Zayn has to know—

“What are you here for, Niall?”

Huffing, Niall narrows his eyes. “I’m here because you’re an idiot, Malik.”

He can’t think of a response for that besides a drawn out _uhhh_ , so Niall shakes his head, crosses his arms defensively. Zayn can’t stop looking at Niall’s fingernails, bitten down and red, and he wonders what had him so anxious. But he’s not in any place to ask anymore, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I talked to Harry, and Harry has been talking to Liam. Because no one in this band can keep a secret. Or, wait, _fuck_.” Niall scrubs at his face, suddenly looking less angry and more tired than anything. “I mean, anyone who was in this band. No one out of the five of us can keep a secret, I mean.” 

And now Zayn’s nervous, because Niall flew out to see him — Zayn knows he’s been in LA; he sees the tabloids — instead of just calling him, and he’s going to be mad at Liam for something, and all of this feels _bad_.

“Yeah, we all kind of suck at that,” Zayn says weakly. He takes another step back without really meaning to, rejecting this image of an upset Niall because of something Zayn did.

Annoyance clearly coming back to him, Niall shakes his head again. “That isn’t the point though, Zayn.”

“Okay,” Zayn says. “What is the point, then?”

“It’s that you ran after me, Zayn,” Niall says. It sounds a bit accusing, a bit more upset, and Zayn’s breath hitches. “And you told Liam about it but no one bothered to tell me.”

Niall looks at him expectantly, but Zayn’s mind has gone blank. Static like the wrong radio station. When he doesn’t say anything, Niall continues, “Did you try to catch me at the airport, Zayn? Because I— I don’t know why you would do that.” 

Niall scrubs his face tiredly and Zayn finally registers his exhaustion. The red rims of his eyes, the way he’s hunched over the way he used to be after a long flight, the way he’s blinking a little too slowly and a little too often.

“Did you fly here from LA? You look like you’re about to drop,” Zayn says. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach out and tug Niall in to him, but Zayn’s pretty sure he isn’t allowed to anymore.

“I— Uh, yeah, I did. ‘S nothing,” Niall says with a shrug, like this is nothing. Zayn knows better, though. Knows that Niall brushed off pain in his knee multiple times, only to come back from the doctor’s with a prescription, his knee brace on, and a sheepish smile.

“Did you sleep at all on the flight? That’s like over ten hours, Ni—”

“Zayn, _stop_.” Zayn snaps his mouth shut. Niall’s voice is shaky, desperate, and it crackles behind Zayn’s ribs. “Please just answer me. Christ.”

Zayn nods, swallows. Ignores the churning in his stomach and replies. “Why wouldn’t I run after you, Ni? A fight didn’t change how I felt about you.”

“Felt? Like, past tense felt?”

“I mean,” Zayn starts, pauses, sighs before continuing. “It’s a bit different, now, isn’t it? I loved you in the band, and without it I still loved you, but it’s hard to navigate. It took me a while to figure out myself outside of the context of the band, and then process you without that context as well. It fucked with my head.”

“Okay,” Niall says. He’s gone quiet now, arms crossed across his chest defensively. “So, do you still love me, then?”

It’s so Niall, Zayn thinks, to figure out where Zayn stands before he puts his heart on the line. Putting himself emotionally out there at the risk of getting hurt was always Zayn’s thing, and Niall liked to keep his heart to itself when it really mattered. It was one thing to love millions of adoring fans, to love friends and family, but without the assurance that the other person loves him back in the same way if not more, Niall tended to retreat into himself. He laughed and hugged and grinned through it, didn’t give himself away.

“I’ve loved you for six years, Niall. I may have stepped away from the band, but you’re one thing I never wanted to lose.” 

It’s pretty much what Zayn had been planning on saying months ago. It’s what his mind had hurriedly, panickedly come up with when he was in a car on the way to the airport at four in the fucking morning, praying he wasn’t too late. Which, of course, he was, but the words come back to him now, as does the uneasiness in his stomach.

“How late were you?” 

It would feel dismissive if Zayn didn’t know Niall like the back of his hand. Didn’t know the lines of his face like he knows the lines of his own tattoos. And Niall’s face is soft, mouth slightly upturned, so Zayn feels free to give him a small smile.

“Saw you with your headphones on as you were leaving security. Couldn’t have left more than fifteen minutes after you. Didn’t bother bringing anyone with me.”

Niall’s face breaks, then, grin splitting it like the sun breaking through the clouds. “You idiot. Any other time and you would’ve been papped, mobbed or something.”

Zayn shrugs this time, looks down and notices Niall’s fingers twitching at his side. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

Within seconds, Niall reaches forward, slowly interlocks his fingers with Zayn’s. “I overreacted, a bit. I’m sorry it took me this long to own up to it. Thought, like, if you didn’t want the band then you didn’t want the me in the band. If that makes sense. Kinda screwed with my head.” Niall brings their joined hands up, presses his lips against Zayn’s wrist and pulls him in closer. 

“Just because I don’t want to be in the band doesn’t mean I don’t want the Niall that comes with it. I love every version of you. Do _you_ still love me?” Zayn asks. He’s anxious until Niall huffs a breath and looks at him with a softness in his eyes that untangles the knots in Zayn’s stomach. Warmth spreads through his veins, tingles in his fingers, and he _knows_ , then.

“ _Zayn_ ,” Niall says, incredulous with a bit of laughter in his tone. The _I never stopped_ is pressed to Zayn’s lips, and Zayn doesn’t think he’s felt more grounded.

There’s a bite at his lip, and then they’re both smiling too big to kiss properly. Their teeth knock together and Zayn’s nose is a bit squished against Niall’s cheek when he says, “Fuck, I missed this. I missed _you_.”

“Did you?” Niall’s other hand grips at Zayn’s hip, and he starts leading them to the living room. Zayn lands on top of his notepad, and the paper crinkles under his elbow, but he can’t find it in himself to care enough to move it.

“Guess we have to get reacquainted, then.”

Zayn grins, says, “ _God_ , yes,” and then pulls Niall into him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come say hi or yell at me on tumblr!](http://zot5.tumblr.com) Please be kind. :)


End file.
